


Blush

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW, NSFW text, Sex, Smut, Squirting, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Inspired by "Nasty" by Janet Jackson. Dean finds out you can squirt. Naturally, he loves it. This is PWP all the way, direct from Smutsville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blush

'Gimme a beat!' You yelled, flinging a shirt across the laundry room of the bunker, before swinging your hips around to the beat of the song. Being alone in the bunker had it's perks – singing and dancing whilst doing the chores was one of your favourite things. And with the amount of laundry Dean and Sam (and on the odd occasion, Castiel) put out, it was usually a good thing to get on with whilst they were out doing the hunting thing.

You weren't into that. Sure, you helped with the research, and the salt and burns but werewolves, ghouls and anything else that involved knives or guns? Eck. No. Killing things was so not your thing.

Dean on the other hand, well. He was _totally_ your thing. He was hot, which apparently ran in the Winchester genetics, because Sam wasn't so hard on the eyes either. But Dean had captivated you from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. He was enigmatic and at the same time, so very simple. He liked pie, he liked beer, he liked his car and he liked the ladies. You in particular. It had been six months since you'd hooked up with him, despite your father's disapproving words. Of course, he was a hunter, and more disappointed in the fact that you would not be following in his footsteps any time soon.

It wasn't long before your frequent stays over at the bunker had become full on living-with-Dean. And he hadn't minded. He had, on more than occasion, stated that there was nothing better than coming home to a good meal and a good woman. And you didn't dispute that. You were safer here than anywhere else, and you could contribute without someone shoving a rifle in your hands and forcing you to do what was against your nature. You weren't content standing back and just ignoring the darkness of the world, but you were _not_ hunter material.

'Sittin' in the movie show, thinkin' nasty thoughts, huh.' You swung the basket of laundry around, dancing to the tune. 'Better be a gentleman, or you turn me off, huh!' Dropping the basket to the floor, you bent over, opening the door to the washing machine. 'That's right, ah, let me tell it.'

You were so caught up in singing the song, bopping your hips to the beat, you didn't hear the door open, and didn't hear anyone come in until Dean cleared his throat. Immediately, you cut off singing, and stood straight, blushing furiously as Dean grinned from the doorway.

'Nice ass.'

'Thanks.' You replied, recovering some of your sass. 'I grew it myself.'

Dean chuckled, pulling the door shut as he wandered over. 'I never you knew you liked to dance.'

'Only when no one is here to watch.' You replied, crouching down and pushing the rest of the clothes into the washer. 'What are you doing back here anyway?'

'Sam went on ahead. I forgot something.' You frowned, slamming the door of the washing machine shut and standing up again, only to come nose to nose with your boyfriend.

'W-what?' You asked, a little nervous and a _lot_ turned on at his close proximity. The music continued to play in the background.

'This.' He pressed his lips to yours, pushing you back against the washing machine, his hands finding your waist with ease. With a gasp, you pushed him off.

'Dean, seriously.' You gulped down air.

'I forgot my bag. And when I came back in, I heard the music.' He grinned. 'Glad I came down here. But I'm not rushing off to a hunt with this.' He grasped your hand, placing it over the sizeable bulge in his pants. 'It'd be nothing but a distraction.' His eyes were darkening now, at the sound of your breath increasing. 'Wanna help me out?'

The only nasty thing I like is the nasty groove, huh

'Er, I, um,' you tried to make words, but all that happened was your hand clenched a little around the throbbing outline of his cock and you melted. There was no way you could resist Dean Winchester. Asking anyone to was like asking someone...to do...something really difficult.

Dammit, you couldn't think straight when he was kissing your neck like that.

'I'm gonna fuck you over this washing machine.' He muttered into your ear and you sank like the fucking Titanic. 'Wanna feel you cum all over my cock, baby. You want this?' As if to emphasise, he thrust into you, and you groaned, not even putting up a slight fight any more.

'Dean.' He chuckled at the tone of your voice, before his fingers pulled at your jeans, letting them fall down to your ankles. You were barefoot already, and kicked them off without a second thought. Then he knelt down, his touch leaving goosepimples on your skin where he touched you.

'Wanna taste you first.' He said, applying slight pressure to your thighs. You looked down, then stepped back, hopping up onto the washer. Dean's eyes lit up, and he shuffled forward, pushing your legs apart, leaving you completely open to him. 'Fuck, you've got such a pretty cunt, Y/N.' He leant in, flicking his tongue out to taste you and your eyes rolled back in your head. The music played on, mostly ignored now, but the beat still made you move slightly, even as Dean sank one finger inside you to the knuckle. His tongue traced a path along your outer lips, before making a circle around your clit. You gasped, straining closer to him, but his grip was firm. You leant back on your arms, your head falling backwards as he added another finger, running his tongue over your clit repeatedly, applying just enough pressure to make you cry out, but not enough to make you cum.

'Dean...' You gasped his name again, and he ignored you, pumping his fingers in and out of your slick channel with a steady rhythm. God, you wanted him. So bad. You needed to cum, and wanted to cum on his cock. 'Please Dean, fuck me.'

'I am.' He replied, burrowing his fingers deeper inside you, brushing the tips against your sweetest spot, and returning his attention to your clit. The combination was overwhelming and before you knew it, you were begging and pleading for him to fuck you. He looked up at you, seeing the bliss on your face, but knowing that you were not quite there. 'Not yet, baby. Wanna make you cum.'

'Dean, seriously please...' You tried to pull your thighs together but he held you fast.

'Y/N, what's wrong?' He asked. 'You always stop me when I'm doing this. You never let me finish you off.' His fingers stilled inside you and you sagged a little, knowing he wasn't gonna let this go. For six months you'd managed to distract him before he could find out, but it wasn't gonna go away this time. 'Baby, tell me what's wrong?'

'If I cum like this...' You started and then trailed off, closing your eyes. His touch left your pussy, and you ached for him almost immediately. Opening your eyes again, you saw him, stood there looking at you with such concern it damn near broke you.

'Tell me.' He urged gently. You knew that if you said you didn't want to tell him, he'd let it go, but...

'If you make me cum like this, I tend to...' You swallowed, ready to blurt it out and get it over with. 'I'll...squirt.'

Silence dropped over the room like a darkened cloak and you dared to glance at his face. Without warning, he dropped back to his knees and you shrieked as he returned his tongue to your clit.

'Dean! Didn't you hear me?'

'Hell yeah, I did. And it's not gonna stop me. You know how damn sexy that is?'

'It's not sexy!' You insisted. 'It's messy and embarrassing.'

He made a noise, pressing his tongue into your cunt, and you cried out, almost jumping when he thrust two fingers inside you without warning. 'Fuck, baby, seeing you squirt, that'd...geez...' Dean didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence, and he turned words into actions as he started to fuck you vigorously with his hand, his tongue working overtime on your clit. You writhed and panted, feeling sweat bead on your forehead as he held you fast on top of the washing machine, his fingers turning you into putty.

'Baby...Dean...I can't...'

'Then cum.' He said. 'Cum for me, Y/N. I wanna see you cum.'

The foundation holding you together broke and you came hard, screaming out his name over the now defunct music, your hips gyrating as Dean pulled away, watching you in awe. It took a few seconds for the waves to stop crashing through your bones, and when you managed to calm yourself down, you looked at Dean with a deep blush covering your skin. 'Sorry...' You muttered, pulling your legs together, feeling your juices dripping down your skin.

The sudden force of Dean's body slamming into yours was almost painful, and his hands were somehow managing to be everywhere. His pants disappeared, and you gasped when he pulled you off the washing machine, impaling you on his rock hard cock with ease. It wasn't like you weren't wet enough.

He didn't paused to give you time to adjust either – he was fully intent on fucking the life out of you. 'Fucking...hottest...damn thing...I've ever...fucking...seen.' He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust and you cried out, feeling him as deep as he could be at this angle. His hands held you up by your ass and you kissed him, trying to move against him, but if one thing was ever certain, Dean was in control here. 'Watching you squirt like a fucking porn star...' You blushed again, and he shifted a little, pushing into you as far as he could. 'Almost came in my fucking pants.'

'I didn't think...'

'What, that I'd like it?' He almost scoffed, but it was more of a strangled cry as you clenched around him. 'Fuck...Y/N...fuck.' Apparently he'd run out of words again.

You pushed against his chest, and he took the hint, pulling you off of his cock, before spinning you round. Pressing your head down, you allowed him to bend you over the washing machine, feeling the cool metal through your thin shirt. It didn't take long for Dean's cock to be fully sheathed inside your cunt once more, this angle even more intense than the one before.

'Fuck, you're so wet.' He muttered, his hands on your hips as he continued to plough into you, his grunts just making the entire thing hotter than it had ever been before. You felt the heat in your belly again, and cried out as euphoria crashed into you like a freight train, your cunt clenching around Dean and pulling him into oblivion with you. For long moments, he remained buried inside your heat, both of you gasping for air, your mixed cum running down your thighs.

When he finally pulled away, you remained where you were for a few moments, before straightening and looking at him with a dopey grin on your face. Dean had collapsed back against the laundry table, his nakedness not bothering him in the slightest. With a quick turn, you swiped your jeans and his from the floor, throwing his at him. He didn't even attempt to catch them.

'Dean, you gotta go.'

He frowned, looking towards the closed door, and then back to you. 'After that?' He smiled, walking towards you, and you swallowed, pants forgotten in your hands. 'I'm just getting started.'

 


End file.
